David James Mitchell loves John Carpenter a fact made explicit in the opening shot of It Follows. The impressive 360-degree pan accented by a pulsating synth track starts and ends on a perfectly framed suburban dwelling immediately and undeniably placing us in the familiar domain of the master of horror’s Halloween (1978). In the suburbs no one can hear you scream and Carpenter so well established the horror potential latent in such an ostensibly docile setting it proves a difficult legacy to overcome or to update. As such the opening of It Follows almost functions as dutiful prerequisite an effort on Mitchell’s part to show his hand and acknowledge the mustachioed elephant in the room: “Yes I love John Carpenter but may we move on?”
We’re shortly introduced to Jay (Maika Monroe) who passes on plans with her sister (Lili Sepe) in lieu of a date with a new mysterious guy (Jake Weary). The two initially head to the movies but abandon them for a drive to the waterfront the perfect place for a romantic hook-up. Immediately afterwards however Jay’s date informs her that their rendezvous wasn’t as innocent as she’d assumed. Sex as an endgame for young men isn’t unheard of but it quickly emerges that this was a concerted effort and a particularly malicious one. The encounter entailed the transmission of an affliction worse than your average sexually transmitted infection (STI) leaving Jay the target of a slow-moving shape-shifting figure — think a zombie meets The Ring. From here on out she learns it’s best to keep moving.
Horror films are tricky and along with the physical bodies that litter their plots we can often add dialogue and character developments to the list of causalities all too often sacrificed in service of whatever spectre has been tasked with propelling the narrative. The fact that It Follows is clearly attuned to the relationships that exist between the characters beyond the immediate disturbance is only part of what makes the film such a pleasure to watch. The dynamic between Jay her sister and their small band could almost propel the film itself so the fact that It Follows’ horror elements feel so clever and inspired are an added bonus. Mitchell’s 2010 debut The Myth of The American Sleepover revealed his knack for finely written characters and casting but was hindered by its precious tendencies here absent. There remains a tenderness and pathos for the characters one that manages to exist within the occasionally rigid mechanics of the horror film.
For all its precision the film manages to avoid heavy-handedness. As the slow-moving game of cat-and-mouse progresses Mitchell introduces a surprisingly nuanced morality play forcing Jay to consider the repercussions of sleeping with another hapless victim thus passing along the curse and liberating herself from her pursuer. The film complicates what might seem a simplistic metaphor for STIs without teetering into literalism or toothless social critique. Set primarily in an affluent suburb of Detroit with occasional excursions into the city proper the film is also intelligent enough to elude the near-irresistible lure of “ruin-porn” aesthetics (and in doing so pulls double-duty by also refuting the more obvious domain of horror: abandoned decrepit homes).
Like the Carpenter reference(s) Mitchell tips his hat to established conventions but always seems eager to reorient the film embracing opportunities for unique stylistic and narrative flourishes while doing an impressive job of reining them in letting plot and characters ground the film. The score while distinctive and among the film’s finest elements tends towards the overbearing but avoids overindulgence. Likewise midway though the film Mitchell tries his hand at a second flashy 360-degree pan but thankfully realizes that any more would be overkill. Like the figures of the film Mitchell may be approaching slowly but his determination is both undeniable and formidable.
IT FOLLOWS directed by David Robert Mitchell starring Linda Boston Caitlin Burt and Heather Fairbanks screens at The Globe on Saturday February 14.
